Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
6,492
Reviews:
41
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
6,492
Reviews:
41
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Ghost of You
**I never said I’d lie in wait forever
If I died, we\'d be together now
I can’t always just forget her
But she could try**
--
Harry lie on his back staring at the ceiling. He had been lying on his back staring at the ceiling for what had seemed like weeks. In all actuality it had only been a few days, but when you cease bathing and eating, for all intents and purposes living like a civilized human being, time sort of runs together.
He had heard nothing from Ginny since she had slammed that door in his face. He could only assume she had run to Ron and Hermione’s new home. Either that or back to her mother’s, though now that the last of the children were finally out of their house, the Senior Weasleys were taking a break from playing the mommy and daddy role and just being together for the first time in about thirty years. Harry figured Ginny wouldn’t want to intrude on that. Then again, Ron and Hermione had just gotten married. Surely she would respect those boundaries. However, he HAD just slept with ‘the enemy’. On top of which, he was supposed to be only sleeping with HER. He wondered which part was worst, the cheating part or the Malfoy part…
Harry tried not to think.
He was terribly unsuccessful at it.
Between memories of the amazing time he’d had with Draco, and how much he knew he loved Ginny despite evidence to the contrary, he was incredibly confused over the entire affair. The over-riding emotion he felt was pain at having hurt her as much as he knew he had. At that moment he felt as if he’d give anything in the world to take back what he had done to her. Even if that meant giving back what he had done with Draco. He would do it, only for her...
Only for her.
**
Harry was staring at the ornate shelves in the kitchen next to the ovens. He had given up lying on his back staring at the ceiling almost two days ago. He reached out tentatively and fingered the lip of the glass decanter. He had never before in his life resorted to any means to cope, but he felt that if he was ever going to start, now might just be the time. He grabbed the bottle and brought it to his mouth, skirting past the idea to use a glass. He wanted to stop feeling, and he wanted to stop feeling now.
He got down about three gulps before spluttering and choking, alcohol flying everywhere. He gasped, trying to bring air down his burning throat, but he couldn’t seem to manage it. After a final shuddering breath, he appraised the liquid in his hand. He shrugged before doing his best to down the remaining contents.
**
Harry had moved to sitting in the corner of the sofa in his great sitting room. He clutched a glass carafe very similar to the first he’d drunk a few days prior. He gripped it like it was the only thing tethering him to his existence, while at the same time using its contents to remove himself from said existence. He was stuck between desperately wanting Ginny back, feeling disgusted with himself for having done something so stupid to get rid of her, and wanting the feeling of Draco’s fingers ghosting over his skin. Again…
Yes, even through all the turmoil he was wrapped up in, he couldn’t shake the need that seemed to ignite in him at the mere thought of the icy blonde.
Harry’s head dropped with a clink against the glass in his hand. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to cry but a sob threatened to shake from his chest. Another two deep breaths and another slug from the bottle managed to bury it further. Realizing he had emptied yet another vessel, he dropped his head to his hands, curling into a ball on the cushions. He rocked back and forth not wanting to resort to another bottle of liquor, but needing something to do with his hands. Holding bottles was working up to this point, and he was on his way to getting up for another when he heard a faint tapping on the window. For an insane split second he thought it was Ginny, finally having returned. But he quickly realized that was stupid, as Ginny both had a key and could apparate directly to the step.
He stumbled to the noise, shuffling through news-papers (useless attempts at keeping himself busy), and empty bottles (useless attempts at keeping himself numb). He reached the wall and gripped the curtain, managing to tear the hooks at the top two or so at a time. He finally righted himself in time to notice a very familiar owl blinking through the glass at him.
“Hullo,” he croaked.
He’d forgotten how long it had been since he’d spoken, not having anyone to talk to besides Kreacher, who he had ordered to stay out of his way for a while, directly after he’d polished off the first bottle. Turns out Harry can be a bit of a belligerent drunk under the right circumstances, and Kreacher had managed to get in the way. Harry was afraid of ever hurting the elf, so he had sent him away for a while. At least until everything was figured out.
Hence the mess Harry had to wade through to get to the owl.
Who was still blinking at him blankly.
He softly undid the latch and pulled the pane in enough to reach out to the bird. The animal simply stuck out a leg, expectantly.
Harry took the parchment, unrolled it, and scanned it quickly. He glanced at the owl and just shook his head. He made to scritch his head in apology, but the owl ruffled his feathers and took off immediately. Harry sighed, and turned back to the couch, fingers just barely gripping the paper. He looked at it once more, landing finally on the name signing the note.
Draco
Harry knew he couldn’t respond to Draco. He knew he couldn’t talk to him or see him. If he did he knew what would happen. He could tell just by thinking about it. He knew he’d end up doing it all over again, and even if Ginny were thinking about returning home… After he did it twice? How would he be able to face her?
In the very middle of moving beyond simply worrying about what would happen, to thinking about what would happen, he heard another soft tapping.
This time at the door…
Harry dove for the door, praying that this time it WAS Ginny. He grabbed the knob without giving a second thought to the mess that the house (or even he, himself) was in. He swung open the door, a single word on his lips.
“Ginn-“
He stared into silver eyes; eyes that seemed slightly disappointed that they were being met with a frown instead of hunger.
**
Draco and Harry stared at each other across the threshold; Draco’s face masked with confusion (and a little hope), Harry’s face masked with disappointment (and a little regret).
“Draco…”
“Harry, what’s the matter?”
Although he was sure he already knew based on the greeting he’d received.
“Ginny caught me.”
‘Idiot.’ The word in his thoughts was made plain by the change of expression.
“Draco, you can’t stay here. She may come back any minute, if she sees you that’ll be the end of it all.”
“’End of it all?’ What about me? I thought surely that it meant SOMETHING to you, even if only that you’d realize you were gay and leave the Weaselette.”
“’It’,” Harry mumbled. He thought back to that night and remembered feeling freer than he’d ever felt, save for the first time he’d gotten on a broom.
Draco glanced past the other man, into the house, and saw all the papers and bottles lying all over the place. He brought his gaze back to the face before his own, taking in the far-away, glazed over visage. He could tell Harry hadn’t shaved in a long time. While he wasn’t quite a full grown man yet, and as a result wasn’t as hairy as he would be in a few years, he was quite prickly. To his fright, Draco realized that the effect was somewhat charming. While he knew he was head-over-heels for the git, that didn’t mean he wasn’t still very strict about good hygiene and dressing habits. Still, there was just something about this that made Harry seem lost. This strongly pulled at Draco’s heart, and he realized just how much of a girl he really was.
“Harry, please. Let me in, we’ll talk.”
Harry shook his head, seeming to get lost in Draco’s eyes. He had never seen anything quite as intense, and was sure he could fall into them and be gone forever. Every fibre in his being was screaming for him to reach out and take Draco. To grab him and pull him over the doorstep, throwing him against the wall again. He wanted to so badly that he was about to, when Draco himself stepped over.
Tears were beginning to make themselves evident, Harry could feel them welling up against his lashes. He didn’t care if Draco noticed. He was so torn; he had never felt such a strong pull in two very different directions in all his life. While he wanted with all his might to take Draco, he in the exact instant, and with as much ferocity, wanted only Ginny. He longed for her to just reappear on the step in that moment, and come inside and forgive him.
“Draco… I… I love her. I can’t do this to her.”
Draco shook his head; he wanted to never to hear those words again.
“Harry, please.”
He took another step forward, Harry matching it backwards.
“Harry, just let me touch you. Let me kiss you. I can make you forget her.”
Harry’s brain seemed to react to this statement. Forgetting her was the one reason he had taken to draining the liquor supplies, and it wasn’t working in the least. Something told him Draco’s body might just be able to do the trick, and he moved forward without prompt. Soon they stood chest to chest, both breathing heavily. Harry’s fingers ached and twitched. He wanted so badly to just touch Draco. He wanted to softly brush the hair off his forehead, and realized he already had. He could feel his lips trembling, and saw Draco’s eyes dart to the quiet movement. He could tell Draco wanted to, maybe more than he did, but he was holding back.
Draco didn’t want to scare Harry, or move too quickly and ruin any chances he may have that day, but before he could think any further on it his brain registered Harry lips against his own. Harry’s hands roughly wandered over Draco’s entire torso, and they guided him sideways and then backwards, and Draco came abruptly into contact with the wall. All the while he was being assaulted at seemingly every angle by a very hungry pair of lips, and when said lips descended onto his neck his legs went weak beneath him.
This brought him back to the last time they were in a situation like this. Draco wasn’t at all sure he’d be able to handle another one of those. He’d born the dry assault with grace, only because he was desperate for his long standing dream to finally come true, but the truth of the matter was it fucking hurt. In the moment it was forgivable only because it was HARRY, but after the confused and giddy brunette had left him lying on the floor the dull ache crept slowly in and every movement was agony. He’d resorted to a pain numbing potion, and a cream embarrassingly applied, in order to even walk out of his house that morning. But he knew he would do it again, if pressed. Just about anything would be alright, so long as it was Harry doing it to him.
Harry’s lips moved to the other side of his neck then, just below the pulse, and Draco arched deeply into Harry, keening loudly and forgetting his concerns. Unbeknownst to either of them Harry managed to find a VERY sensitive patch of skin, and fortunately this spot was enough to make Draco so close to exploding that a single touch would have done the job. Unfortunately, however, the very audible cry was enough to bring Harry to his senses, and he rudely broke free and jumped back.
Taking in the sight was frightening enough; Draco all disheveled and heaving for breath, leaning against the wall, pants straining obviously... Harry shook his head, and cradled it in his hands. He mumbled best he could through the obstruction, but got his point across quite effectively:
“Draco, you have to go.”
Draco stared at Harry, affected by the obvious turmoil. He knew that anything he would do now would just serve to make Harry feel worse, and it hurt. He wanted Harry to know and accept that he wanted him, but right now Harry wasn’t cooperating. All Harry wanted now was Ginny and Draco was not her. Without a single word, Draco turned and exited the domicile, not even bothering to close the door. He didn’t even disapparate; he just walked away, and down the road, hoping against hope that Harry would watch after him.
Harry did. He watched the boy he so dreadfully wanted, watched him walk away, cursing his inability to just pick someone. He dropped to the floor once the blond was out of sight and sobbed into his arms.
He wanted Ginny to come back, he wanted everything back to normal, he wanted just him and Ginny, his friends, his family, everyone happy and together, no distractions, no Draco…
“Oh Ginny, what have I done?”
Only the echo of his cries answered him, and he rocked back and forth thumping against the wall where he had just had Draco pinned.
“What have I done?”
--
**At the end of the world
Or the last thing I see
You are never coming home
Never coming home
Never coming home
Never coming home**
If I died, we\'d be together now
I can’t always just forget her
But she could try**
--
Harry lie on his back staring at the ceiling. He had been lying on his back staring at the ceiling for what had seemed like weeks. In all actuality it had only been a few days, but when you cease bathing and eating, for all intents and purposes living like a civilized human being, time sort of runs together.
He had heard nothing from Ginny since she had slammed that door in his face. He could only assume she had run to Ron and Hermione’s new home. Either that or back to her mother’s, though now that the last of the children were finally out of their house, the Senior Weasleys were taking a break from playing the mommy and daddy role and just being together for the first time in about thirty years. Harry figured Ginny wouldn’t want to intrude on that. Then again, Ron and Hermione had just gotten married. Surely she would respect those boundaries. However, he HAD just slept with ‘the enemy’. On top of which, he was supposed to be only sleeping with HER. He wondered which part was worst, the cheating part or the Malfoy part…
Harry tried not to think.
He was terribly unsuccessful at it.
Between memories of the amazing time he’d had with Draco, and how much he knew he loved Ginny despite evidence to the contrary, he was incredibly confused over the entire affair. The over-riding emotion he felt was pain at having hurt her as much as he knew he had. At that moment he felt as if he’d give anything in the world to take back what he had done to her. Even if that meant giving back what he had done with Draco. He would do it, only for her...
Only for her.
**
Harry was staring at the ornate shelves in the kitchen next to the ovens. He had given up lying on his back staring at the ceiling almost two days ago. He reached out tentatively and fingered the lip of the glass decanter. He had never before in his life resorted to any means to cope, but he felt that if he was ever going to start, now might just be the time. He grabbed the bottle and brought it to his mouth, skirting past the idea to use a glass. He wanted to stop feeling, and he wanted to stop feeling now.
He got down about three gulps before spluttering and choking, alcohol flying everywhere. He gasped, trying to bring air down his burning throat, but he couldn’t seem to manage it. After a final shuddering breath, he appraised the liquid in his hand. He shrugged before doing his best to down the remaining contents.
**
Harry had moved to sitting in the corner of the sofa in his great sitting room. He clutched a glass carafe very similar to the first he’d drunk a few days prior. He gripped it like it was the only thing tethering him to his existence, while at the same time using its contents to remove himself from said existence. He was stuck between desperately wanting Ginny back, feeling disgusted with himself for having done something so stupid to get rid of her, and wanting the feeling of Draco’s fingers ghosting over his skin. Again…
Yes, even through all the turmoil he was wrapped up in, he couldn’t shake the need that seemed to ignite in him at the mere thought of the icy blonde.
Harry’s head dropped with a clink against the glass in his hand. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to cry but a sob threatened to shake from his chest. Another two deep breaths and another slug from the bottle managed to bury it further. Realizing he had emptied yet another vessel, he dropped his head to his hands, curling into a ball on the cushions. He rocked back and forth not wanting to resort to another bottle of liquor, but needing something to do with his hands. Holding bottles was working up to this point, and he was on his way to getting up for another when he heard a faint tapping on the window. For an insane split second he thought it was Ginny, finally having returned. But he quickly realized that was stupid, as Ginny both had a key and could apparate directly to the step.
He stumbled to the noise, shuffling through news-papers (useless attempts at keeping himself busy), and empty bottles (useless attempts at keeping himself numb). He reached the wall and gripped the curtain, managing to tear the hooks at the top two or so at a time. He finally righted himself in time to notice a very familiar owl blinking through the glass at him.
“Hullo,” he croaked.
He’d forgotten how long it had been since he’d spoken, not having anyone to talk to besides Kreacher, who he had ordered to stay out of his way for a while, directly after he’d polished off the first bottle. Turns out Harry can be a bit of a belligerent drunk under the right circumstances, and Kreacher had managed to get in the way. Harry was afraid of ever hurting the elf, so he had sent him away for a while. At least until everything was figured out.
Hence the mess Harry had to wade through to get to the owl.
Who was still blinking at him blankly.
He softly undid the latch and pulled the pane in enough to reach out to the bird. The animal simply stuck out a leg, expectantly.
Harry took the parchment, unrolled it, and scanned it quickly. He glanced at the owl and just shook his head. He made to scritch his head in apology, but the owl ruffled his feathers and took off immediately. Harry sighed, and turned back to the couch, fingers just barely gripping the paper. He looked at it once more, landing finally on the name signing the note.
Draco
Harry knew he couldn’t respond to Draco. He knew he couldn’t talk to him or see him. If he did he knew what would happen. He could tell just by thinking about it. He knew he’d end up doing it all over again, and even if Ginny were thinking about returning home… After he did it twice? How would he be able to face her?
In the very middle of moving beyond simply worrying about what would happen, to thinking about what would happen, he heard another soft tapping.
This time at the door…
Harry dove for the door, praying that this time it WAS Ginny. He grabbed the knob without giving a second thought to the mess that the house (or even he, himself) was in. He swung open the door, a single word on his lips.
“Ginn-“
He stared into silver eyes; eyes that seemed slightly disappointed that they were being met with a frown instead of hunger.
**
Draco and Harry stared at each other across the threshold; Draco’s face masked with confusion (and a little hope), Harry’s face masked with disappointment (and a little regret).
“Draco…”
“Harry, what’s the matter?”
Although he was sure he already knew based on the greeting he’d received.
“Ginny caught me.”
‘Idiot.’ The word in his thoughts was made plain by the change of expression.
“Draco, you can’t stay here. She may come back any minute, if she sees you that’ll be the end of it all.”
“’End of it all?’ What about me? I thought surely that it meant SOMETHING to you, even if only that you’d realize you were gay and leave the Weaselette.”
“’It’,” Harry mumbled. He thought back to that night and remembered feeling freer than he’d ever felt, save for the first time he’d gotten on a broom.
Draco glanced past the other man, into the house, and saw all the papers and bottles lying all over the place. He brought his gaze back to the face before his own, taking in the far-away, glazed over visage. He could tell Harry hadn’t shaved in a long time. While he wasn’t quite a full grown man yet, and as a result wasn’t as hairy as he would be in a few years, he was quite prickly. To his fright, Draco realized that the effect was somewhat charming. While he knew he was head-over-heels for the git, that didn’t mean he wasn’t still very strict about good hygiene and dressing habits. Still, there was just something about this that made Harry seem lost. This strongly pulled at Draco’s heart, and he realized just how much of a girl he really was.
“Harry, please. Let me in, we’ll talk.”
Harry shook his head, seeming to get lost in Draco’s eyes. He had never seen anything quite as intense, and was sure he could fall into them and be gone forever. Every fibre in his being was screaming for him to reach out and take Draco. To grab him and pull him over the doorstep, throwing him against the wall again. He wanted to so badly that he was about to, when Draco himself stepped over.
Tears were beginning to make themselves evident, Harry could feel them welling up against his lashes. He didn’t care if Draco noticed. He was so torn; he had never felt such a strong pull in two very different directions in all his life. While he wanted with all his might to take Draco, he in the exact instant, and with as much ferocity, wanted only Ginny. He longed for her to just reappear on the step in that moment, and come inside and forgive him.
“Draco… I… I love her. I can’t do this to her.”
Draco shook his head; he wanted to never to hear those words again.
“Harry, please.”
He took another step forward, Harry matching it backwards.
“Harry, just let me touch you. Let me kiss you. I can make you forget her.”
Harry’s brain seemed to react to this statement. Forgetting her was the one reason he had taken to draining the liquor supplies, and it wasn’t working in the least. Something told him Draco’s body might just be able to do the trick, and he moved forward without prompt. Soon they stood chest to chest, both breathing heavily. Harry’s fingers ached and twitched. He wanted so badly to just touch Draco. He wanted to softly brush the hair off his forehead, and realized he already had. He could feel his lips trembling, and saw Draco’s eyes dart to the quiet movement. He could tell Draco wanted to, maybe more than he did, but he was holding back.
Draco didn’t want to scare Harry, or move too quickly and ruin any chances he may have that day, but before he could think any further on it his brain registered Harry lips against his own. Harry’s hands roughly wandered over Draco’s entire torso, and they guided him sideways and then backwards, and Draco came abruptly into contact with the wall. All the while he was being assaulted at seemingly every angle by a very hungry pair of lips, and when said lips descended onto his neck his legs went weak beneath him.
This brought him back to the last time they were in a situation like this. Draco wasn’t at all sure he’d be able to handle another one of those. He’d born the dry assault with grace, only because he was desperate for his long standing dream to finally come true, but the truth of the matter was it fucking hurt. In the moment it was forgivable only because it was HARRY, but after the confused and giddy brunette had left him lying on the floor the dull ache crept slowly in and every movement was agony. He’d resorted to a pain numbing potion, and a cream embarrassingly applied, in order to even walk out of his house that morning. But he knew he would do it again, if pressed. Just about anything would be alright, so long as it was Harry doing it to him.
Harry’s lips moved to the other side of his neck then, just below the pulse, and Draco arched deeply into Harry, keening loudly and forgetting his concerns. Unbeknownst to either of them Harry managed to find a VERY sensitive patch of skin, and fortunately this spot was enough to make Draco so close to exploding that a single touch would have done the job. Unfortunately, however, the very audible cry was enough to bring Harry to his senses, and he rudely broke free and jumped back.
Taking in the sight was frightening enough; Draco all disheveled and heaving for breath, leaning against the wall, pants straining obviously... Harry shook his head, and cradled it in his hands. He mumbled best he could through the obstruction, but got his point across quite effectively:
“Draco, you have to go.”
Draco stared at Harry, affected by the obvious turmoil. He knew that anything he would do now would just serve to make Harry feel worse, and it hurt. He wanted Harry to know and accept that he wanted him, but right now Harry wasn’t cooperating. All Harry wanted now was Ginny and Draco was not her. Without a single word, Draco turned and exited the domicile, not even bothering to close the door. He didn’t even disapparate; he just walked away, and down the road, hoping against hope that Harry would watch after him.
Harry did. He watched the boy he so dreadfully wanted, watched him walk away, cursing his inability to just pick someone. He dropped to the floor once the blond was out of sight and sobbed into his arms.
He wanted Ginny to come back, he wanted everything back to normal, he wanted just him and Ginny, his friends, his family, everyone happy and together, no distractions, no Draco…
“Oh Ginny, what have I done?”
Only the echo of his cries answered him, and he rocked back and forth thumping against the wall where he had just had Draco pinned.
“What have I done?”
--
**At the end of the world
Or the last thing I see
You are never coming home
Never coming home
Never coming home
Never coming home**